20 | She/Her | Account Where I Mostly Put My Mature Writing | Any Explicit Adult Content Will Be Under a Warning | Minors DNI! | Please Excuse the ADHD | I Love Several Fandoms, So Feel Free to Submit Any Asks and Letâs Chat | Currents Obsessions Include The Dark Pictures Anthology, COD, and TMNT | No Judgement Here
One-shot based loosely in The Last Ronin universe, after everyone is gone but Michelangelo. Youâd lost your older brother Casey Jones, and Raphael, whom you thought you were in love with. Your NYC apartment now seems so void of life, until Michelangelo shows up on one cold evening. Itâs comforting, even though heâs but a shell of his former self.
No pronouns mentioned. Critiquing and requests welcome.
Warnings: Some adult themes. Mentions of death and grief.
Life had felt unreal for a while now. A big part of your brain simply refused to accept reality. You thought youâd wake up from this one day. That theyâd come back. This would all be fixed and go back to normal. Then, a smaller part of your brain, the part that knew what reality was, would whisper to you at the most random moments, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at the agonizing truth. Youâd foolishly begin to think the wounds had started to heal, and thatâs when youâd find an old voicemail from your brother Casey. The cup he always used when he came over sitting at the back of the cupboard. Maybe a sock heâd somehow left behind. Thatâs when that dull ache would creep into your chest, and the tears would silently flow until you fell asleep on the couch.Â
It crossed your mind to consult Donnie for his professional opinion on how to deal with all this. Then you remembered that wasnât an option.
The world was so quiet now.Â
This time when it happened, youâd found some random office supplies on your desk that had been rearranged by Raphael. You knew it was him. Heâd always done stuff like that. Sometimes heâd prop up sticky notes to build a small tower; that always made you chuckle. It reminded you that even with his hard exterior, he was still an immature young man on the inside. This time, heâd organized your things into the shape of a heart, just for you to find. You hadnât spent much time at your desk since all the chaos, but it was inevitable for you to find. It felt like the dumbest thing ever sitting on the floor, sobbing with a stapler in your hand. It was like someone had just stabbed you in the chest, and it brought you right back to those nights when you lost each one of them. It felt so very selfish, but sometimes you wish you could just forget about them completely, just for a little while. Then it wouldnât feel like the very air you breathed was slowly suffocating you day by day.Â
Youâd ceased actively crying at that point and had reached the part where you just stared blankly into space, tears still staining your cheeks, lost somewhere in the depths of your own mind. Your fingers turned the stapler in circles absentmindedly. Thatâs when a few taps on your apartment window made your breath catch. Adrenaline shot through you for a moment before your brain caught up with itself, pulling you back to the present.
Heaving yourself up from the ground, you used your shirt to wipe away any remaining dampness from your cheeks and poked your head around the corner into the living room. Once you caught a glimpse of dull green, you began making your way over and unlocked the window. You motioned the familiar male in from the cold, to which he obliged, and you closed the window behind him.Â
You still hadnât grown accustomed to seeing him without a mask. The four of them had seldom removed their masks in front of you, but since Michelangelo had been on his own, you never saw the signature orange anymore. Whatâs the point of having your team color without a team?
Mikey shot a glance your way as you stood awkwardly in front of him. You noticed it beforeâhow a lack of face covering somehow made their turtle nature more obvious. It was more apparent that he had no ears or eyebrows like a typical person would. Not that it bothered you, of course, but you knew it was part of the reason heâd previously adorned it so often. It made him feel vulnerable. Now he just didnât care anymore.Â
You finally greeted him with an obviously half-hearted smile, âHey, stranger.â
The thought crossed your mind of how similar he looked to his older brother, the red clad one that youâd begun to fall in love with before he got himself killed. But you quickly shoved the idea as far down as it would go, feeling vaguely ashamed. This was goofy little Mikey, the comic relief, not your Raphael. Heâd never be Raph.Â
They werenât the same.Â
They werenât anything alike.Â
âHey.âÂ
You knew he was staring at the redness of your watery eyes, but he didnât mention it. You both knew.Â
There was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice gravely, as if it hadnât been used much in a while. âIâm not really sure why Iâm here.â
You nodded, turning to head towards the kitchen. âI didnât ask.âÂ
You went to fix you both a cup of tea. When you came back, Mikey had stripped off his trench coat and was now sitting patiently on your couch. Setting one of your good mugs in front of the terrapin, you found a spot beside him to make yourself comfortable. Mikey thanked you before taking a couple sips of the warm liquid and settling back into place.Â
Neither of you said anything or looked at the other for quite some time. But it wasnât an awkward sort of silence.
âI have some leftover pizza if youâd like,â you offered at one point.
He shook his head and waved a dismissive hand in response.Â
You nodded, trying not to dwell too much on the ways he had changed, or wonder if youâd ever see the remnants of his old self again. His once bright, dancing blue eyes, which always seemed to search for leftover food or mischief to get into, were now nothing but dim and even somewhat cold. They almost seemed to stare right through you at times.Â
The silence continued. You were each vaguely aware of what the other was thinking about, but didnât voice it. You fixed on the wall ahead of you, much like Mikey did, your hand resting on the arm of the couch.Â
Your mind slowly wandered back to your older brother. What you wouldnât give for just five more minutes, just to hear his voice one more time. All those times youâd gotten angry with him or missed a phone call made you just hate yourself. It shouldnât have, but it did. You felt beaten down and outright defeated. Life had taken nearly everything it could from you. It was lonely. You tried to fight it; you really did, but another tear rolled quickly down your face and onto your shirt. You tried to be subtle with the way you dabbed it away on the back of your hand, sniffling quietly.Â
âIâm sorry for barging in on you like this." Michelangeloâs words cut through the air, making you turn to him.Â
Your brow furrowed. âIt-â
âI just couldnât be alone anymore tonight.â He continued looking ahead, completely monotone. âI keep hearing their voices around the house.â
You felt a pang hit your heart. You didnât know what to do or say. There was really no good answer. It was all so strange. It made you want to break down all over again, but you didnât. You had to be somewhat strong for each other. Maybe it was finally time the two of you talked about all the brothers you missed so fiercely.
You took a deep breath, failing to hide the way it shook.
âI hate the dreams. The nightmares are bad, but the good ones are the worst. Waking up and remembering my brother isnât here. Realizing it was all an illusion,â you mused, starting to pick at the skin on your fingers out of habit. âAnd I know April means well, but I just canât talk with her yet. Not yet.â
Finally, Mikey turned to look at you for a long minute, before scooting to sit a few inches away. It surprised you a bit, but you didnât stop him. What surprised you even more was the tiny smile he offered, his tired eyes holding great sincerity. For a moment, you could see a flash of that naive, playful turtle you first met those years ago, as well as his passionate, hard-headed older brother. He had aged so much in such a short amount of time. Â
You returned his friendly gesture, while repeatedly trying to swallow the lump in your throat in attempt to fight more tears. Mikester was always so sweet. That was your nickname for him. He didnât deserve what heâd been through.
You hadnât the foggiest idea what came over you, none at all, but before you knew what was happening, youâd started to lean towards Michelangelo, eyeing the way his lips parted. It felt like a big magnet was pulling you toward him. His reptilian eyes widened slightly; however, he made no move to deter your actions. You both knew how bad of an idea it wasâthat this was not the way to cope with your tragic situations. It was maybe even morally wrong. But you both so desperately needed some sort of comfort, a distraction.
Michelangeloâs breath fanned over your face oh-so faintly, making your heart flutter and pick up pace. It was such a pleasant feeling compared to all youâd felt lately. You reached carefully to cup his cheek, like you were afraid to scare him away with any sudden movements. The cool, scaly texture was identical to Raphael's, you noted. Tension was high as you studied each otherâs expressions carefully.Â
âR- Mike?â You all but whispered, not really sure what you were even asking for.
ââŠYeah..?â
When it became clear that Mikey wouldnât close the rest of the distance, maybe for fear of betraying his fallen brother, or something else weighing on his shoulders completely, you took the liberty of doing it yourself. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt his lips brush against yours for the first time. Everything stood still for a moment, and more tears pooled under your lashes as your eyes slid closed, embracing him further. Michelangelo reached to brush a large thumb over the apple of your cheek, sweet and tender, just as youâd anticipated. At this, you faintly began to nudge on his plastron, successfully leaning him back until his shell hit the cushions.Â
As you crawled over top of the once lively mutant turtle, you began to question your integrity. Youâd never quite viewed Michelangelo in this way before.Â
Were you just using him? Was he a replacement for Raph? Were you taking advantage of his vulnerability? Did he think that too? Was he okay with it? Was he using you in a similar way? Were either of you even thinking straight?Â
You didnât have the answers, but you didnât let any of it stop you either. Perhaps you werenât as noble of a person as you once thought. You knew youâd feel some sort of shame tomorrow, but that was tomorrow.
Michelangelo let you maneuver him as you pleased over the soft surface, knowing you probably couldnât hurt him if you tried. You hadnât even felt the tears start to flow again, but they did.Â
You knew that no matter how much you loved Michelangelo in his own way, it would never be the same as the love youâd lost.Â
Ken decided to wander back to the real world once he started feeling lonely back home. He had begun to feel empty inside. And not just because he was hollow. He had to find what was missing.
It turns out that navigating life outside of Barbie land was a little more difficult than he initially thought.
He toys with the idea that the real world might not be cut out for him, which made him feel even more alone. But it didnât take long after that for him to run into you.Â
Will opt to stay in the real world a little longer once you show him an ounce of attention. Barbie found her purpose in the real world; why couldnât he?Â
You were immediately intrigued by Ken. Something about him just drew you in, made you want to know more. He was a peculiar guy, to say the least.
He accidentally called you Barbie a couple times at your initial meeting.
In the beginning, he sort of just seemed like a crazy person, but it was almost lovable. He was never rude or ill-willed; he was just abnormally clueless. You decided to help the strange man anyway, which made him light up like a firework.
Eventually, once he revealed his origins, you were endeared by his lack of real-world knowledge.Â
Took you a while to get used to the bizarre fact that your childhood dolls were alive somewhere.
Ken told you the whole story of how he didnât know what his place in the universe was anymore. (Which was accompanied by a very dramatic display that ended in him lying face down on the floor.) You comforted him as best you could.
Kenâs decision to stay was a big one, but you were prepared to help him. You felt he needed someone to guide him; heâd never make it out there. You couldnât just let him go on his own; it didnât feel right.Â
Part of you also wanted to keep him by your side because he reminded you of a doll you used to have when you were youngerâŠ
Once he was choosing a career path, you had to steer him in the direction of something sensible. Not that a space cowboy was impossible, but you advised him to start a little smaller. (And that âbeachâ was also not in the realm of possibility at the moment, which he took a little hard.)
You couldnât deny that Ken was attractive, either. I mean, he was a Ken doll. And it was hard for you to hide, mostly because he had no sense of personal space whatsoever.Â
He would cluelessly ask why your skin felt so warm sometimes and why you tripped over your words. That was around the time you had to explain to him that it was considered "indecent" to walk around with his shirt open, or without a shirt altogether.
You thought everything was all going fairly smooth until the day he decided to ask about his new human genitals. You nearly choked on your drink at that.
Ken looked at you with big, curious eyes. It wasnât something that had even crossed your mind before. How did that even work? Did it just grow out of nowhere? You didnât want to ask.Â
After you blinked at him silently for an extended period of time, Ken finally dropped his head.Â
"Sorry. I shouldnât bother you with questions all the time. I guess I can go back to the library and see what-" He started to get up.Â
You grabbed his arm. "No! No, itâs not that; I just-" Never thought Iâd be giving a grown man the sex talk. "Needed to think about it. What makes you ask all of a sudden?"Â
Maybe you shouldnât have asked that.Â
Ken sighed but very confidently explained, "Well, sometimes when I see you, especially in pretty outfits, my pants get kind of uncomfortable. Itâs very strange. At first I thought thatâs just how some clothes worked in the real world, but now Iâm not so sure!â
"âŠ"
Teaching him to button clothes was also something that youâd rather not think about. Apparently, he was more used to Velcro. But you had to admit, touching his abs wasnât the worst thing in the world.Â
His shirt buttons were sometimes done up all wonky, but he tried. He attempted to hide it with jackets.
Watching him learn to navigate food was also an interesting adventure. You regret taking him to a restaurant so soon. You just have to laugh awkwardly when he dumps drinks all over his damn self in public, forgetting that theyâre not just empty pieces of plastic.
He loved learning how to cook once he got the hang of appliances. He liked that the buttons actually did things and werenât just stickers.
Had a particular fascination with the blender and making liquids out of everything.Â
You got into a food fight one night by accident, and even though you had to clean it up, it was honestly a lot of fun making a mess with Ken.Â
Definitely set the fire alarm off more than once.Â
At first, it felt like he was doing something wrong by falling in love with you. None of the Kens or Barbies had ever been boyfriend-girlfriend with someone outside of Barbie land; it felt like he was venturing into unknown territory. But you were just so helpful and patient with him; nobody had ever been so doting to him before. Even if he didnât know all the ins and outs of your world, you still treated him as an equal. He was smitten with you so fast that it made his head spin.Â
Ken also learned that his head and limbs didnât spin in circles anymore. That was a nice trip to the doctor.Â
Follows you absolutely everywhere.
His favorite place was the supermarket. Sooo many new things for him to find.Â
Had to explain that he couldnât afford to buy all the doll houses that were in stock. He had to be more careful with his money.
Had a mini meltdown because he never had a house in Barbie land.Â
You did cave and let him get a few horse posters.Â
Stopped him from opening and drinking out of the juice containers.Â
Had to scold him for walking out of the store with things because he "really wanted" them. But you did let him keep the nail polish he stole this time.
Took out your mailbox when you let him drive one time.Â
Tried to bring a wild animal inside as a pet because it looked cool and nobody else seemed like they had one.
A sense of danger didnât really exist with Ken.Â
Once he learned what colors you liked, he decided to try and paint one of the rooms in your house. Thankfully, he hadnât realized there was a difference between finger paint and house paint, so it wasnât too hard to wash off. It was obvious "house renovator" was not on his factory box.Â
Always helped around the house once he learned all the chores. Lots of accidentally bleached clothes came out of it, but the effort was sweet.Â
Ken really just liked to see you smile, and heâd do anything to make that happen. He loved every dip, line, and bump in your skin. All the different colors and textures of your body were so much different from the manufactured dolls, and it fascinated him. He memorized every part of you three times. But it scared him. The last time he pursued love, it made his chest hurt in the end. He didnât want that feeling to come back.Â
When he finally got the guts to come clean, all of the romance books he studied went right out the window and got jumbled up as he started, "(Y/n), you are particularly good to my eyes this evening."
You glanced at him, studying the smolder on his face. "⊠Thank you, Kenneth."Â
It was almost comical how often he managed to leave you at a loss for words.Â
As soon as you looked away again, he continued, his self-assured demeanor faltering.Â
"N-Not just this evening, all the time. I mean, I like looking at you," he said, shaking his head. "But not just in a patriarchal way! Patriarchy is bad, you know."
You cocked your head.Â
"Youâre not just for looking at. I like looking at you and being around you the same amount. In a boyfriend-girlfriend way... Yes." He nodded to himself, a satisfied grin splitting his handsome face.Â
Your eyes went wide for a moment. You werenât expecting him to ramble off something like that. It wasnât an especially graceful confession, but he was so charming with everything he said that it really didnât matter.Â
You laughed, causing his face to drop a bit. "I have to tell you, I already knew some of that. Youâre not the most subtle, Ken."
His eyes drifted to the floor. "Oh."Â
"But I didnât know you wanted to be boyfriend-girlfriend. That was a nice surprise," you admitted, planting a bashful kiss on his forehead.Â
His head snapped up, eyebrows nearly meeting his hairline. Kenâs face was mixed with all sorts of emotions. His first instinct was to step towards you, snaking his arms around your waist, but he hesitated when he saw your expression.
You avoided his gaze, a weak smile playing on your lips. âBut how⊠Can you go from wanting an actual Barbie doll to wanting me? If she had felt the same way you didâŠâ
Ken paused, seeming more serious than youâd ever seen him. Then he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, urging you to meet his soft gaze.
âBarbie and I were not made for each other. It was hard to understand that, because thatâs how I thought it was supposed to be. Who was I without Barbie?â He took a deep breath, contemplating something. âBut this is who I am. Youâve helped me understand so many things, including the fact that Iâm not just an accessory. Being in the real world is letting go of the idea of perfectionâŠâ
Ken drew small circles on your lower back. âBecause this is so much better than that.â
You cupped his jaw, unable to fight the smirk tugging at your mouth. Adoration sparkled in your eyes. âI taught you that, huh?â
"And I⊠I really want my mouth to touch yours," he blurted eagerly, like heâd been waiting his whole life for a moment like this, his face mere centimeters away.
When you smiled at him in amusement, he proceeded to pucker his lips slightly and tilt his head, waiting very patiently.Â
You chuckled, still laughing a bit as you closed the gap between you. It was all but perfect. But you made a mental note to explain to him what Vaseline was later.
Ken was on cloud nine. He couldnât remember a time he felt so happy, so warm, so jumpy. So many emotions he didnât know the words for. His chest wasnât heavy this time; it was light and bursting with his heart going a million miles a minute. It was complicated, but the real world was so much better than he couldâve ever hoped it would be.Â
Ken wasnât perfect, but thatâs what being human was all about. And you loved him for trying as hard as he did.
Yes! If I think I can make a decent story out of it, I will certainly give it a shot. But I do like to stick to the more well known characters in fandoms, just because the ones with more screen time are easier to match a personality with for me.
If any of you Modern Warfare II girlies would like an audio that reminds you of our boy Rodolfo Parra in a sexy scenario with the listener, Iâve found something you might like <3 :
You receive a Spanish lesson from your boyfriend Rudy~
Headphones advised! :)
Credit: DrAuxdio
Warning: This audio link is 18+ and involves an AFAB listener.
I don't mean to bother you but for the spring even request could you possibly write about Graves guiding his inexperienced girlfriend through a handjob
MOTION
PHILLIP GRAVES X GN! READER
â AO3 | MASTERLIST | SPRING 2023 EVENT
â WORD COUNT | 616
â WARNINGS | pwop, handjobs (obv), kinda sub! graves, smut in a closet, petnames (sugar, sweetheart.)
â AUTHORâS NOTE | tysm for the request, you could never bother me!! this actually challenged me a lil but i hope you like it đ«¶
â THIS WORK IS MEANT TO BE WRITTEN IN AN ADULT READERâS POINT OF VIEW. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
Itâs slightly dark; the only thing you can see clearly is the hem of his jacket, slightly unzipped from your advances. Dust clouds your vision as it rises upward, the prickling sensation of Gravesâ teeth on your neck making you dizzy. His hands trail down to your own, eagerly taking them and settling you on his abdomen.
The bass of bar music settles uncomfortably in your ears, and you shift from the ambience. A round of boots passes, followed by the idle murmur of your subordinates. It wouldnât be long before they began checking rooms.
âDonât have much time...â He mutters between marks, adjusting your legs so they rest on a storage crate. âThink you can help me out, sugar?â
You eye the placement of your hands on his naval, feeling your skin grow clammy as one travels to his jeans. Your fingers stop once they take hold of his zipper, looking up to him with a sheepish smile.
âIâm afraid I might disappoint you here, Sir.â You sigh, lightly prodding against the bulge in his pants. âWould you be so kind as to help me?â
Graves whistles, low, and frankly impressed. The singsong pitch of your voice smooths like velvet over his ears, and he hums. A gloved hand gently secures your roaming fingers, allowing you to discard his pants and the garments under them.
The sight of his cock is nothing newâ you practically have the mold of it imprinted in your brain. However, youâve never jerked him off before. The pure thought of it had Gravesâ teeth drilling into his lips in apprehension, the excitement shown in the beads of pre that slipped from his tip.
His hands move once more, securing your fore fingers against the base of his dick. With a push of his thumb, yours slides near his balls, and he lightly presses down.
âThatâs all, sweetheart. You know the motion.â
A subtle wink is thrown your way, and the rough padding of his glove is gone. You resist the urge to furrow your eyebrows as you begin to move, languidly stroking up to his tip. Pre spills over your fingers, lathering the entirety of Gravesâ dick as you move back down.
You glance up, finding approval in the lopsided smile Graves sports. The sight encourages you to move faster, your body edging up against his thighs to gain perch.
âYouâre a natural, sugar.â Graves puffs, planting a hand on your back. âCâmere, donât wanna leave you hanginâ.â
He pushes you forward, hand steady on your shoulder blade as his lips raise to meet yours. You revel in the taste of him, lightly buzzed with alcohol and pine. His mouth is hot, sucking you in with the alluring prick of his canines. You revel in the feeling of his spare hand running along your jawline, grasping your chin to keep it steady.
Graves eventually has to pull away, labored breaths mold into drawn out moans as you work his dick. You bite your lip at the sight of him, cheeks lightly dusted pink, eyes fluttered shut from the pleasure. Words fail him as his climax approaches, and you can feel him throb in your hand as a silent warning.
He opens his eyes only when your hand is coated in his seed, hair tousled, mouth slightly ajar. The rising shouts of Shadow Company soldiers grows closer than ever, and you slide off of him, grabbing an old uniform off of the floor to wipe your hand with. Graves stifles a chuckle at the look on your face, and when his men pass, he runs a hand over a patch of mess you missed on your sleeve.
Synopsis: After a long day, you just want to shower and head to bed, but your lover Alejandro tumbles through the door in a frisky mood and does anything he can to skip the line.
Warnings: Very playful Alejandro, NSFW below the cut, Smut, Fingering, Oral sex (f receiving), Naked play fighting, Fluffiness, Established relationship, Female anatomy for reader, No use of Y/n, Possibly bad writing (sorry, I try my best).
 You stared in the mirror as the last of your clothes hit the floor, lost in thought. Youâd gotten home late, and you were ready to get the nighttime ritual over with so you could happily give in to the sleep that your brain was begging for.
As you strolled over to cut the shower on, a cacophony of noises from the other end of the house made you nearly jump out of your skin. You recognized the front door slamming shut and sincerely hoped it was your boyfriend coming home from work and not someone breaking in to kill you. After a few seconds, Alejandro came barreling into your shared room, his expression fueled by dissipating adrenaline. He was always enthusiastic to see you when he returned. He appreciated that he could just relax and be Alejandro, rather than Colonel Vargas.
"Princesa!" He chirped once his eyes landed on you in the bathroom, quickly approaching to plant a slew of kisses on your temple. A look of realization washed over his features as he stood back and scanned your figure. "Youâre naked, hermosa."Â
"Thank you, Alej. Wouldnât have guessed." Your laugh caressed his ears in a way that made him smile. "You have a good day?"
"Iâd say so, mi vida." He closed the gap again, his lips finding the crook of your neck and gently grazing its flesh. "How lucky am I, aye? Coming home to dinner waiting for me."Â
"Mm. Somebodyâs in a mood, papi chulo." You purred, flashing him a cheeky grin as your nails skimmed over his bicep. "Actually, Mr. Vargas, I was getting in the shower."Â
Alejandroâs eyes widened real big.
"I was coming to shower! ÂĄEso no es justo!" He whined in a playful tone, wrapping his arms around you to cage you in.Â
You groaned, attempting to loosen his grip. "Alej, Iâm not doing this with you. Youâre not stealing my shower again. I was here first, and Iâm already undressed, see? Go use the smaller one."
He eyeballed you for a moment, then grinned and began rushing to strip the rest of his gear off. "ÂĄQuĂtate de en medio! Iâll be quicker than you anyway!"Â
Once you realized what he was doing, you scrambled to get the shower on. Meanwhile, your boyfriend was shuffling around so rapidly that youâd think someone had set his clothes on fire. Just as you were stepping into the water, a strong pair of hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back.Â
"No!"Â
When you were far enough away, he reached and turned the water off.Â
"Alej!" You shrieked, amused giggles falling from you as you attempted to shove past him. He was plenty strong enough to stop you, howeverâstronger than you always anticipated.
A cluster of pushing, pulling, turning, and grabbing ensued to try and keep the other back, along with bellowing laughter from both of you. Even when roughhousing, it was clear he was trying to be gentle.Â
He grunted as you began pulling him out of the bathroom with all the strength you could muster. Once youâd made it out, you twisted and shoved him toward the bed. But Alejandro had already anticipated your move, per usual, and pulled you down with him. You squealed as you went tumbling down on top of him, then gained your composure enough to wrestle his arms above his head. He wouldnât stay still for long; he wrapped his leg around you in a way that made it easy for him to flip you around, hovering over you. You squirmed and tried to pin each other down for at least a few minutes before you began to grow restless.Â
"Alej, okay! Thatâs enough, let me shower already!" You demanded, going limp in defeat as he secured your appendages once more.Â
He didnât answer, but appeared very triumphant while settling himself on top of you. Thatâs when you felt something solid poke against your thigh. Your eyes drifted downward, already suspecting the culprit. He followed your gaze, then met your half-lidded eyes.Â
"En serio, Alejandro?"Â
"Iâm rolling around with a beautiful naked woman, cariño; Iâm not sure what you want of me."Â
You couldnât help chuckling at him, feeling a bit warm from the compliment.Â
"-But I know what I want of you," he cooed, sliding down your body and settling on his knees at the edge of the bed, peppering kisses in his wake.Â
Alejandro grasped your hips and shimmied you down as much as he could, sucking random patches of skin between your thighs.Â
"You donât have to-" You cut yourself off with a gasp as he licked a stripe up your lips, before trailing kisses to your clit.Â
"Would you rather not?" He mumbled against your skin, pausing to glance up at you.Â
You swallowed thickly, the shower quickly being cast from your mind while warmth began to blossom in your abdomen. "No, no⊠You can."
Without another word, he grabbed the underneath of your thighs and spread them far apart, massaging the skin with his fingertips. Your hands found purchase in his hair as his tongue saturated the outside of your pussy, merely taunting the idea of licking your clit. You whined and bucked your hips weakly, to which he retaliated by pressing you further into the mattress.
Gently he prodded past the folds that were growing much slicker, running his tongue between them over and over at a leisurely pace. Your breath quickened, becoming high-pitched and uneven as you subconsciously tried to push his head down further. Without breaking contact, Alejandro snatched your wrists and held them down with one hand, hooking your leg over his shoulder with the other. His calloused palm ran up and down your outer thigh, causing goosebumps to form. Once he was sure you wouldnât fuss again, he released your hands and threw your other leg up, sliding his hands down to your ass and giving it a nice squeeze. Your fingers dug into the surface below you as he made his way down and delved into your cunt, pumping in and out a few times. A string of breathy moans tumbled from your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut tight. Alejandroâs attention flickered to watch the way your chest began to rise and fall rapidly as you squirmed.Â
He then flattened his tongue against your sex and dragged back up to your clit, pressing a light kiss on it. The combination of arousal and spit all but dripped down his beard as he started lapping at that swollen bundle of nerves, firm and intentional. His speed was torturously slow, letting you feel every divot, bump, and curve of the muscle in his mouth. Explicit groans bubbled from your throat, choking you up every time he hit just the right nerve with the right amount of friction. Your hands fisted the sheets, fighting desperately not to push your hips up into him.
"Alej, faster, please, I- Oh fuck," you mewled, followed by a handful of incoherent babbling as he swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud before giving it a light suck.Â
His handsome features contorted to look hopelessly pussy-drunk, zeroed in on tasting everything you had to offer. With one hand, he kept an iron grip on your ass and held you as close to his face as possible; with the other, he used to slide two fingers into your drenched cunt, curling them repeatedly. Your back arched off the bed, pornographic moans reaching every corner of the house. Alejandroâs tongue began moving feverishly against you, breaking every so often to lick down your pussy and taste the moisture that was now gathering below your ass. His fingers moved in rhythm, fucking them into you as if his life depended on it; wet squelching sounds were produced with every thrust. As he continued further, that familiar tingling began to spread throughout your sex and lower stomach, building in intensity as he kept devouring you like a man starved. Soon you were teetering on the edge of an orgasm, utter nonsense mixed with cries of Alejandroâs name growing progressively louder. He knew you were close by the way your legs trembled around him, muscles flexing involuntarily.Â
"Tell me what you want, mi amor," he muttered quickly under his breath before resuming.Â
"Shit- Oh, God. Please, papi," you gasped, "Make me cum. I- fuck, I wanna cum on your mouth. Please, oh-"Â
You took a sharp breath as he wrapped his lips around your clit one last time and sucked it into his mouth, the tension finally snapping while he teased at it with the tip of his tongue. Your orgasm came crashing down on top of you like a tidal wave, drawing a cry from your lungs and rippling through your entire body, making your legs jerk.Â
He groaned, feeling your cunt squeeze his digits like a vice, your thighs trapping him between them. You instinctively reached to hold his head in place and grind against him, and he made no move to stop it as you used his face to ride through the sensation. He only peered up at you with lust-filled eyes that seemed to sparkle when he watched you writhing against him. It was a scene worth framing, the way you pulled him in like you were trying to smother him.
"Mierda," he cursed, barely audible to anyone but himself.Â
You took a moment to catch your breath as the feeling subsided. Gradually returning to your normal senses, you peeked down at him between your legs. Alejandro gave you a rather perverse look before dipping down to antagonize your now overstimulated clit. You managed a few pathetic whimpers, trying in veign to wiggle away. After a minute, he obliged with your efforts and removed himself to crawl over top of you, capturing your lips in a few lazy kisses, the taste of yourself still lingering strongly. While moving his lips against yours, he palmed one of your breasts, toying with the nipple in a way that elicited a sigh from you. In turn, you reached down to graze your fingers over the head of his cock. Alejandro shivered, feeling his own precum being smeared down the length of his dick, throbbing in your grasp. His hand snaked around your throat in a delicate touch, tilting your head to look at him.Â
Synopsis: Drabble where the reader goes to a bar to unwind. Philip is kinda drunk, uses the cheesiest lines ever. Gets real southern when he starts drinking. Also just wanted a story with Graves in a cowboy hat. No real plot. Other characters are briefly mentioned.
Warnings: Corny and suggestive banter below the cut.
âżââââàŒșâàŒ»âââââŸ
Enjoying a simple moment of peace proved nearly impossible, with exhaustion almost successfully luring your brain into its vice. You didnât want to go home and sleep just yet, you wanted to sit at the oak plywood bar and fester in an alcoholic stupor. But the more you stared at the half-empty glass before you, the heavier your eyelids became. This was one of the few things that alleviated you of the stress from your day job, and you could hardly get fulfillment from it because you were so tired.Â
It wasnât a particularly difficult job once you got the hang of it, but it was tedious work. Never mind looking at another stapler tonight; those didnât exist to you anymore. And you didnât hate much in life, but you and that paper shredder were not on good terms.
The hum of bubbly department store music would normally be nothing but agitating, and now it was lulling you to sleep. You swayed ever so delicately as you propped an elbow up for some stability. If someone hadnât been watching your alcohol consumption level, theyâd say you were fully inebriated by now, but truthfully, you were still on your first glass.
The only thing keeping you on earth were the sudden movements of men at the other end of the table that wrapped around the bar. Every once in a while, a chortle or an overly emphasized word would shake you from your reverie, the commotion sounding much more pronounced as you teetered on the edge of sleep. A particularly hearty laugh accompanied by a clenched fist on the counter made you jump. Irritation surged through you for a second before you finally got a good look at the culprits. The decorations hanging from the ceiling somewhat obscured your view, but from what you could tell, they were an awfully compelling bunch, that was certain. Their attire told you they were probably military, complete with dog tags around their necks. A particularly large man kept his face almost completely veiled behind a mask, which was a bit odd, but you figured there must be a reason for it. The one who startled you wore a Mohawk, and he beamed with an assortment of very animated facial expressions as he continued with the story he was telling. A few more men lingered around, all interesting in their own ways.Â
One gentleman in particular managed to keep your attention for a bit too long, and he glanced up when he felt your eyes lingering on him. Now you'd perked up a bit. You shot him a small smile before diverting back to your beverage, quick enough that you didnât catch his reaction. You couldnât help but steal a few more peaks at the man, hoping he wouldnât notice again and find it off-putting.Â
He was adorable, really. Dirty blonde strands of hair poked out from beneath the ebony felt cowboy hat adorning his head. He had a boyish quality to his features, to the point where you couldnât tell if he was 39 or 20. Sun-kissed skin covered taut muscles and prominent veins up his arms, disappearing beneath a t-shirt that hugged his biceps. His defined jaw was lined with a minimal amount of stubble, accenting the especially confident demeanor he gave off. In the moment, you couldnât help imagining those dog tags dangling in your face, and perhaps your heightening buzz had some hand in that.Â
You finished off the drink and beckoned the bartender over for another. This time you felt the manâs eyes on you instead, and your gaze flickered toward him once more. That grin you were met with made you want to melt. You could tell he was up to no good, but you gathered your bearings and motioned for him to come sit on the stool next to you. You thought it couldnât hurt, and it would be a nice change of pace.
The blonde turned to his counterparts who were engrossed in discussion, interrupting with a quick "Iâll be over there" and pointing in your direction, a sly smile plastered across his face. Most of them twisted to look where heâd pointed, with a few whoops and childish noises coming from the men as he stood to saunter your way. You werenât sure if he was flattering or repelling.Â
He nearly collapsed into the bar stool beside you, obviously having indulged in a few drinks himself. You gave a breathy laugh, reaching to fix his hat that had gone crooked on impact. "Hello, cowboy."Â
"Hello, little lady," he drawled, sticking a hand out. "Philip Graves."Â
Your smile brightened as you shook his hand. "(Y/n) (L/n)."
"You called, miss (Y/n)?" Philipâs tipsy smile was goofy and relaxed, and you fed off the energy.Â
"Well, you seemed like you were having fun. And that hat was just FASCINATING."
He waved a dismissive hand in the air, pulling a giggle from you. "Yeah, theyâve been makinâ fun of it for an hour now."Â
"Military, I assume?"Â
"Sumâ like that. Just passinâ through though. Canât talk about it too much, you know."
You nodded, eyes following the full beverage the bartender sat in front of you. "I do know, actually. I do a lot of government paperwork. Deal with the military quite a bit."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Stayed up WAY too late the last four days with the same repetitive paperwork, then went in today and did it all over again. Hence why Iâm here," you laughed. "I just needed a break. Not to talk about myself too much."Â
Philip shook his head, watching you take a drink. "Not at all. But you do seem a bit-"Â
"Like a walking corpse?"
He chuckled. "Well I wasnât gonna say THAT to a lady, but-" he tossed the rest of his whiskey back. "A little tuckered out, sure. Still gorgeous anyway."Â
You hummed in amusement. "Was that a line?"Â
"That depends."Â
"On?"
"If itâs working." He spun the chair to face you, and a smirk tugged its way onto his pink-tinted cheeks.Â
"Oh, Iâm just swooning," You sneered. "Good thing youâre cute."Â
Philip was about to retort when a hushed call from the other side of the bar made you both look up. The Mohawk guy made an obscene gesture to Phil before getting punched in the shoulder by another man in a cap. Like a tree, he didnât move much from the hit, but he still feigned injury anyway.Â
You found the intoxicated exchange between them entertaining.Â
Philip gave an exasperated sigh, a miserable attempt at holding back a laugh. "Sorry âbout that. I work with twelve-year-olds, âpparently."
"Like I said, Iâm familiar with the military."Â
He snorted, the accent growing more pronounced with each passing moment as the alcohol settled into his system. "It ainât all bad. Theyâre just a smidge tipsy."Â
"A smidge?"
Philip locked eyes with you, pupils blown wide and dancing with mischief. "Alright, maybe more than a smidge."
You couldnât help but notice the way those cerulean eyes kept darting down to your lips, a devilish smile playing on his own.Â
"You wanâ another drink? Iâm buyinâ."
You shook your head. "Youâre trouble, Mr. Graves."Â
He arched and rolled his shoulders before relaxing again with a grunt, resting both elbows on the table lazily. He stared off as if in deep thought. "Yâknow, I think you might be onto somethinâ. Seems to follow me wherever I go."Â
"Imagine that," you teased, rolling your eyes. "I think you should go back to the drunken pickup lines; you were doing better."Â
Philip grinned, readjusting himself in the seat. "AlrightâŠ"  He paused for a second. "You any good with horses?"Â
Your brow furrowed while studying the very serious expression on his face, but as soon as you opened your mouth to speak, he cut you off.Â
"âCause yer gonna be ridinâ bareback tonight," he stated in a chirpy tone, looking all too pleased with himself.Â
You blinked. "Okay, I change my mind; donât go back to the pickup lines."Â
At your comment, Philip put on a huge display of looking offended. "Spare my pride, sweetheart.â Â
"You lost your pride when you uttered those words, Phil."Â
You finished off your drink, fighting the bubble of laughter that rose in your throat as he scoffed and pursed his lips.
"Donât matter what you say; that was a good one. Maybe your cornbread just ainât done all the way in the middle."Â
You turned your head, falling into a fit of laughter. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"Â
"Wait, wait! Iâll do you one better," he said, with a deep laugh emitting from him as he leaned close, lips nearly touching your ear as you were distracted. "You know what they say about a cowboy with a big belt buckle?"
Warm breath hit your ear, making delicious chills rise along your skin; the smell of alcohol was faintly present on him. You didnât know it was possible, but his accent bled even thicker when he lowered his voice; laced through with substance-fueled desire. It was angelic on your eardrums, but his intentions were far from it.Â
Ignoring the heat that spread throughout your body, you shoved his shoulder away gently and fought the smile that began to erupt. "Is this your first time talking to a woman?"
"Yâknow, for the life aâ me, I donât remember. I canât seem to think of another woman while Iâm lookinâ at you."Â
âżââââàŒșâàŒ»âââââŸ
this is my first cod writing, and Iâd like to write more, but hereâs my first shot.
thought about making a nsfw part 2, but I didnât know if this was enjoyable in the first place. sooo let me know. or let me know something else you want. ⥠â„
